Vampire (Alpha Claim 8-Final Enforcement): New Adult Paranormal Romance (Vampire Alpha Claim)

by Eros, Marata

  Mom sighed. “Are you okay, honey?”

  Dad clenched his fists. “Yes. The gall of that man to come here, to your dad's home and make those erroneous accusations. Without even a remote basis in fact. Untenable.”

  “From what Caleb tells me, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree with that family,” Gramps commented dryly.

  Helen and Bill strolled up. “What a horrible man. How did he get voted into office?” Helen asked.

  Oh, shit. This was a Big Opener for Gramps.

  Mom slapped her forehead.

  “Well,” Gramps began, “it seems like the flock voted him in, doesn't it?”

  Helen looked puzzled. “What flock?”

  Don't ask, don't ask. But she was Jonesy's mom, so of course she asked.

  “The Sheep,” he said, like duh.

  Jade giggled beside me; she really dug Gramps. To her, he was invincible. He'd just handed Carson's dad his own ass; he was pretty high in all the kidsʼ eyes about now.

  “Oh,” Helen said, not really knowing how to respond to that.

  Join the club.

  Gramps turned. “Okay everyone, chow's ready, the interloper has gone, time to continue the festivities.”

  We all walked back to the BBQ area where a big fire pit was full of illegal wood.

  “Oh, Pop, are you really going to burn that,” Mom asked, pointing to the fragrant and neatly bundled wood.

  He nodded. “Yup.”

  She sighed.

  Bill shook his head and Dad expounded, “Grandfathered.”

  “Right,” Bill said. “I guess that is where the garbage can and lack of a gray water spigot comes in too.”

  “Yeah,” I responded.

  “I'm not using dirty ass water to wash my dishes,” Gramps said, and Helen flinched at the language while Mom quietly sighed again.

  Jonesy and the kids grinned. Gramps was expert at making everything über-awkward, and not noticing that he made it that way.

  Kinda terrific. Unless you were on the receiving end.

  The fire was blazing and Gramps had all the marshmallow sticks out and stuck with a marshmallow, handing one to each kid.

  When he got to Christi, who had arrived right after Hamilton left, she said, “I'm on a diet.”

  He just stared at her until she took the stick. “Fine,” she huffed and his eyebrows jacked down over his eyes. “Thank you,” she tacked on.

  Maybe she was smarter than she looked.

  There was a somewhat peaceful silence, where the adults talked quietly and the fire crackled, twilight sliding into night as we sat together on log rounds with uneven surfaces, pea gravel lining the pit, a rusty circle holding the chunky pieces of wood.

  I watched the firelight flicker on Jade's face, the sun having kissed her a good one today, her cheeks pink—mouth red. My gaze lingered on her lips and she laughed at my look. She knew I was digginʼ on her, thinking about studying French again. I looped an arm around her shoulders and she cuddled in next to me.

  It was Helen that got our full attention. “Bill and I have good news.”

  We all looked at her expectantly.

  “We're going to have a baby,” Helen said.

  What the hell?

  Jonesy spewed a chunk of hot dog at the fire where it landed with a plop, sizzling in the heat.

  Mom recovered first. “Well, that's... ah, wonderful news.”

  Bill was grinning to beat the band and Jonesy looked like he was going to puke. It's not every day that you find out, at almost fifteen, definitive proof that your parents have sex.

  Wow, so uncool.

  “Ah, could you guys like, have warned me?” Jonesy spluttered, completely discombobulated.

  “Well, son, it's not like we were asking permission,” Bill said, eyebrows arched.

  All the teens looked uneasily around at each other but Tiff said, “We have a big family and I always thought it was kinda weird once I met you guys, that the Js and Caleb were all only children. Now Jonesy gets to change poopy diapers and all that happy shit,” she said, juggling a hot marshmallow in her mouth.

  Mom gave Tiff a severe look but she didn't notice, going on, “My youngest brother is only five and my mom's pretty old.” Tiff lifted a shoulder. She looked a confirmation at Bry.

  “Yeah, she's like forty-something,” Bry said.

  The parents all blanched at forty-anything being old. I thought between Tiff and Jonesy something horribly obtuse would be uttered.

  Of course it was.

  John said, “Women over forty can successfully have children. In fact, there has been a significant increase in births in the over-forty group.”

  Helen beamed at him and we looked at him like he needed to go die. I mean, who would even care enough to know that?

  Apparently Alex. “And,” he began, adding to the knowledge base, “the incidence of Down Syndrome has been lessened with the marker's discovery and—”

  “—the subsequent pharmaceutical moderator,” Dad finished.

  “So maybe my parents won't have a flipper baby?” Jonesy asked.

  Tiff barked out a laugh. “Maybe they'll get lucky.”

  Bill looked ready to punch Jonesy, and Helen appeared crestfallen.

  “What?” Jonesy said.

  “Shutting up would be good right now,” Sophie said.

  There were a few awkward moments of silence and then Gramps suggested going inside to play some lame card game called Pinochle.

  He herded the adults inside and turned his face at the last moment, the light from the fire reflected on it as he winked. Gramps was making the adults go away so us kids could sit around. Righteous.

  We sat there poking our sticks into the fire. Christi piped in and said, “I feel bad about my brother hurting you, Caleb.”

  Maybe she was okay after all.

  Then, she ruined it by qualifying, “Not that I'm an AFTD lover or something.”

  Tiff glowered at her.

  Bry looked kinda embarrassed.

  Christi just had to go. I didn't care if she was the hottest girl alive. She was always casting spells and stirring her cauldron.

  “And you guys get on my dick about what I say?” Jonesy splayed his hands on his chest.

  “Ah, hold on there. Not all of us want to be ʻon your dickʼ.” Sophie said.

  Tiff and Jade laughed, raising their hands.

  “I think Jonesy was using an expression.” Alex pushed his glasses up with a finger.

  “How many of us want to be on Jonesy's dick?” Bry asked. “Raise your hand?”

  Mom popped her head out of the open window. “Are you kids talking about penises?”

  Oh. My. God. “Not really Mom.”

  “Well, I don't want any inappropriate dialogue out there.”

  “Don't worry about it, Ali. We're just discussing the merits of porn!” Jonesy yelled.

  I put my face in my hands. This couldn't be my life .

  Jade started rubbing my back.

  Mom got up and Gramps grabbed her wrist, whispering in her ear. There were a few more words exchanged and she sat back down.

  Gramps had placated. That was close. I looked at the group. “Nobody talk, ʼkay?”

  “Your mom sure has cantaloupes about stupid shit,” Tiff said.

  True, but... “She's okay, she just wants to think I'm acting good.”

  Tiff shrugged. “I think our parents are kinda distracted with having all of us running around all the time.”

  Bry nodded, clearly agreeing.

  We started to get into the groove, dragging lounge chairs next to the fire, and we paired up.

  None of us said anything about Sophie and Jonesy sharing.

  The stars filled the sky, and this far out there was very much light pollution (as Mom called it). We sat quietly, whispering about school, the hide-a-way—stuff.

  The adults started to filter out onto the back deck, crossing the huge lawn and all the couples that had been practically lying on top of one another
tried to shift apart so it looked better.

  Jonesy's and my parents weren't impressed. “Pop, are you sure you want this group overnight? It's mixed, yʼknow.” Mom frowned. “I think it might be—”

  “Don't worry about it, Alicia. If I can't handle them, I might as well give up now.”

  Mom's worry was on her face as she glanced at me. “You have to let him go, honey. He's raising corpses for God's sake, he can handle a little overnight mixed company. He's responsible. Aren't ya?” Gramps said, his eyes boring into mine.

  I nodded slowly. Like I'd say no .

  The Parents and Jonesy's parents rolled out the driveway in their mutual cars, Helen and Mom waving as they left.

  Gramps plopped down. “Okay kids, here's the deal: no sex.”

  Nuclear bomb detonated.

  John and Tiff looked at each other awkwardly; Bry and Christi (after she got done gasping like a trout) just stared at Gramps.

  Jonesy said, “Not here, Mac. The timing's off.”

  Gramps looked at him. “You shut your pie hole,” he said, pointing a stout finger at Jonesy, who looked back at him like, who me ?

  Sophie pushed Jonesy off the lounge chair and he got all caught up in the handrail and she fell on top of him with a squeal.

  “See what I'm sayinʼ?” he said from beneath Sophie. “I'm a chick magnet.”

  “Ugh!” Sophie said in a disgusted voice, using more elbow force than necessary as she used Jonesy's torso to leverage up.

  “Hey! That hurt.”

  “What-ev-er!” she hollered back, her curly hair a riot around her head. She shoved it behind her ears violently.

  Gramps was busy wiping the tears that were rolling out from laughing so hard. “I guess maybe not so much warning was needed.” His gales of laughter were breaking off into a random chuckle.

  Sophie settled back into the chair.

  Jonesy got up and brushed off grass and a pebble or two. He pulled up a log (as close as he could get to Sophie) and sat down.

  Gramps started telling funny stories about his childhood and naturally Gran came up.

  “Did Mom ever tell you about Gran and what she said?”

  Gramps got a puzzled expression. “No.”

  Huh, I guess it fell on me. I had forgotten about it until now. “Yeah, before we really knew the full extent, of my abilities.”

  “The Scenic episode?” Tiff interrupted, snapping her gum, and causing Jade to jump.

  I nodded, sounded like a pulse show . “Yeah.”

  Gramps made the circle with his finger, go on .

  “Anyway, she told me to tell you that she was sorry. His face changed and became unreadable. “She said you'd know, Gramps.”

  “Yes, I do,” he responded after a few seconds.

  We waited.

  When it seemed like forever, and there was no explanation coming, I asked, “What was it, Gramps?”

  He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between them.

  “You kids are too young to understand the prejudice against paranormals but, back when I was a boy, if you were ʻspecialʼ you didn't want to announce it.” He stared at the dying fire, poking the glowing coals with an empty marshmallow stick.

  “Now, not to take away from the importance of your dad's discovery Caleb but,” I nodded and Gramps continued, “paranormal phenomenon is not a ʻnewʼ reality. People have been showing flashes of abilities for millennia. All your dad did was validate what we already understood. The pharmaceutical moguls capitalized on it—and here we are.”

  John was frowning, that was his “thinking on it” face. “So, how does this pertain to you?”

  “Not just another pretty face, eh?” Gramps said, his gaze steady on John, who I knew had a blush going in the dark, the firelight obscuring it.

  “When I was a little tyke,” and he swung out his hand to indicate a kid about five, “your gran would walk me to church and we'd pass the quiet neighbors park.”

  “Huh?” Jonesy said.

  “Cemetery,” I said, automatically translating Gramps weird way of talking. His speech wasn't weird to me, but I could tell by the other kidsʼ faces they weren't catching on.

  John got it, his parents were one hundred and five.

  “Anywho, I would catch emotions of the dead. Just little snatches here and there, and naturally, I would tell Gran. All that got me was a swat to my backside.”

  We were all quiet. Seemed really cruel to spank a kid for an ability; totally lame.

  “Don't be too harsh on her, kids,” he said when we all looked pissed for the five-year old he'd been. “It was a different era. Nobody wanted anyone to be different. We all wanted to fit in. After awhile, I stopped saying anything.” Gramps shrugged.

  I understood wanting to be normal even though it wasn't ever gonna happen for me. “So, when I raised Gran, she... ah, figured out that maybe it ʻran in the familyʼ?”

  He nodded. “Suppose so.”

  “Kinda smart for a zombie,” Jonesy said, shuddering.

  “Not as smart as Clyde,” Bry said ominously.

  Gramps gave me a sharp look. “Who's Clyde?”

  I brought Gramps up-to-speed on my main zombie dude.

  “Just a warning, Caleb.” Grampsʼ eyes had never been more serious. “Be careful with this. Something here stinks, and you're working this serial killer shindig.”

  I don't know if I'd call it that.

  “You need to watch out that your power doesn't just get a mind of its own.”

  “What do you mean?” Jade asked, and Sophie nodded.

  “Your power has responded to stress, duress, conflict, et cetera?”

  I nodded, true .

  “Why would it be so out of line for your ability to start cleaning up shop when things get exciting?”

  Like maybe thinking for itself, taking charge of situations ahead of my thought process.

  He was nodding in the firelight, studying my expression that I was definitely connecting the dots.

  “So, my AFTD could just, engage and do what it thought I needed, with or without my—” I began.

  “Consent,” John finished.

  “Bingo.” Gramps pointed John.

  Shit.

  Gramps saw my face and chuckled. “Hang on, son. Don't borrow the worry, I just want you to be aware of the potential.”

  Terrific News.

  So, Gramps was the reason I was digginʼ on the dead. Who knew? It made sense that there was already someone in my ancestry who carried the gene for it.

  After a few minutes of quiet, Jade said, “You know, come to think of it, my grandma had the second sight.”

  Gramps was nodding. “It's safe to say that all of you that are manifesting these abilities may have a relative in your past that had the gene before you.”

  Jonesy said, “Oh yeah! I forgot to say: I get to go to KPH.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

  All the kids started talking at once and Gramps did a shrill whistle, splitting our eardrums.

  Everybody shut up.

  “Nice that you told us, ya doofus,” Tiff said, popping her gum.

  “What are you?” John asked, ever practical.

  He jerked his shoulders up then let them drop. “Don't know. Unclassified.” He shot a sly look at Alex. I sure could have used him during the gang-beating , I thought randomly.

  “I think you guys are losing the focus,” Jade said.

  I looked at her, pressed into my body, her sweet smelling hair up my nose. “Hmm?”

  “He gets to go to KPH, with us!”

  “Well right, but we'd all love to know what he's slinginʼ,” Bry said.

  Christi nodded. “Yeah, what if he has some creeper ability?”

  We all looked at her.

  Don't ask, don't ask.

  Gramps asked, “What does that expression mean?”

  Wonderful.

  Alex pushed up his glasses. “A n individual who lurks about with an enigmatic,
ʻweirdo, avoid-at-all-costsʼ vibe.”

  Huh, I didn't think that could be quantified.

  Gramps puckered his lips, miffed. “You're a mundane?” he asked Christi.

  She nodded.

  He looked at all of us. “Who else is?”

  “Well, I was before yesterday's AP test,” Jonesy said, shining his knuckles on his chest.

  Sophie groaned.

  Bry raised his hand; that left him and Christi.

  “Does that bug you that you're mundanes?” Gramps asked the pair.

  Bry shrugged. “Only when I feel like I can't use my skills to defend myself.”

  “What skills, gnome-magnet? ” Jonesy asked and guffawed.

  “You clearly have a magnet fetish,” Tiff said through a wad of gum.

  “Do not.”

  Bry and Tiff bumped knuckles.

  “Right.” Sophie crosse her arms.

  Jade and I laughed.

  Gramps held his hand up. “The way I see things, there are three types of mundanes: one group would love to be paranormals, the second group is irked because they're not, and the final group hates the paranormals because they don't understand. That lack of understanding, in combination with their hate is a powerful force. Which do you two fall under?” He held Christi and Bry's eyes.

  Bry shrugged. “My sis is AFTD so to love her, I gotta accept what she is. She can't help it. Seriously, at this point, it's kinda like having green eyes instead of brown.”

  The kids were nodding.

  Christi didn't nod.

  “What about you, young lady?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know.”

  Gramps tightened the noose. “You just said, ʻcreeper abilitiesʼ. Are there some that are preferable to others?”

  She rolled her pretty (bourbon-colored) eyes up into her head. “Of course! I mean, who'd want to be ʻall aboutʼ the undead?”

  Nice. S he really had the IQ of eggplant.

  Gramps had just expounded on his “fun” childhood with the undead-flash-a-thon. Wow. Just wow.

  He laughed. “You're missing the point. There are no ʻcoolʼ abilities. They just are .”

  All the boys looked at Alex, whose small chest swelled with pride.

  Gramps' brows arched.

  John nodded. “Show Mac your skills.”

  Alex ducked his head shyly and stood.

  Gramps stood as well. “Caleb, is this going to make something irrevocable occur?”